


The Dance

by wingsofanillyrian



Category: A Court of Thorns and Roses Series - Sarah J. Maas
Genre: ACOTAR - Freeform, AU, F/M, Night Court - Freeform, Slow(ish) Burn, acomaf
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-03-27
Updated: 2018-03-27
Packaged: 2019-04-13 15:21:16
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 4
Words: 7,601
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14115222
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/wingsofanillyrian/pseuds/wingsofanillyrian
Summary: Everyone thinks the High Lord of the Night Court is a monster. Not that Rhysand has ever cared what the other Fae of Prythian think, but when he meets Feyre, Tamlin’s betrothed, he realizes everything is about to change.





	1. Chapter 1

Cassian staggered back to our table, clapping Mor on the shoulder as he sank into a chair. I barely registered his return, my attention fixed wholly on the female at the bar. Her hair fell to the middle of her back in loose golden waves, shimmering in the light pouring over the dance floor.

“Getting pawed at by so many females tires me out pretty quick.” He swiped a sweaty curl off his forehead and took a long drink. Mor scoffed, throwing her hair over a shoulder and rising to her feet.

“And how many did you get to agree to come home with you?” Cass grumbled something under his breath and sank down further in his seat. Mor smirked and patted Cassian’s shoulder sympathetically.

I tracked the female’s movements as she wound back through the crowd, clearly searching for someone. She smiled a bit when she spotted whoever it was, and I lost sight of her as the crowd swallowed her up. I blinked back to reality as Mor slammed her drink to the table.

“Yet again, the female must teach the male how it’s done.” She winked at me before turning on a stiletto heel, marching out onto the dance floor. The crowd parted around her as if she was a force of nature, splitting in half as she strutted towards her intended target. Somewhere along the way, one poor fellow made the mistake of taking her short red dress as an invitation and decided it was a good idea to slap her bum.

And that idiot was my least favorite idiot: Tamlin.

“Ohh,” Cassian crooned, lifting his beer to his lips once more. “This oughtta be good.”

Even from across the dance floor, I felt the air temperature drop ten degrees as Mor shot him an icy glare. Tamlin only laughed, placing the offending hand back on his female’s hip. She was completely oblivious to what had happened, having had her backside pressed firmly against his front. Her thin arm reached back to tangle in his hair, and he dipped his head to latch his lips to her neck. Her head turned towards me, and my heart stuttered.

It was the female from the bar.

Before I could react, Mor politely tapped Tamlin’s shoulder. He turned, baring his teeth and snarling at her to leave. She didn’t, instead smiling sweetly at the female, who had detached herself from the creep long enough to see what all the fuss was about.

I couldn’t read her lips as Mor spoke to her, but I imagine it was something to the effect of ‘FYI, your creepy jerk of a boyfriend just smacked my ass. Thought you might want to know.’ A horrified look crossed the female’s soft face, and she backed away a step. Tamlin’s hand shot out, grabbing her wrist and keeping her rooted to the spot. She tried to struggle out of his grip, and I took that as my cue.

I winnowed in front of them in less time than it took him to blink. My smile dripped venom as I looked at him, allowing my power to slip its leash a bit and curl around my fingers.

“I believe the lady would like to leave,” I purred, glancing at the wrist he still gripped tight. He scoffed at me and jerked his head towards Morrigan.

“Should’ve known that your cousin wouldn’t have been here without you,” he taunted, and yanked the girl back to his chest. “Feyre can make her own decisions, can’t you baby?”

She nodded weakly, but her eyes were locked on mine. They were wide and pleading, begging for a savior. Something within me surged up in response, causing my breath to catch in my throat. I felt it then- a mating bond.

Feyre was my mate.

I felt it click, and I reached out with my power to caress her mind, trying to see if she’d felt it too. I blinked back my shock as I was met with a wall of solid iron, solidly encasing her mind. Never before had someone been able to block me out so wholly.

I struggled to keep my cool as Tamlin continued to let his hands roam her fragile body, every fiber in my body screaming to rip him away from her. But I couldn’t do that, I couldn’t let him know what she was to me.

“Let her go, Tamlin,” I growled, black shadowy wisps solidifying into form beside me, revealing Azriel. Within moments, Cassian flanked my other side, and Tamlin had the three most powerful Illyrian warriors in history staring him down. The crowd around us had dispersed when they realized who was among them: the High Lord of the Night, his third, and his Commanders.

I grinned ferally, spreading my arms wide in a challenge. Wisely, Tamlin released Feyre’s wrist. “Fine,” he spat, backing up. “I know when I’m outnumbered, even if it’s in my own court. But you better watch your damned back, Rhysand. Your lackeys won’t always be there to protect you.”

I cocked my head to the side, a predator assessing prey. “Is that a threat?”

He only shook his head disgustedly and walked out of the club. I stared after him a few moments longer to ensure he wasn’t coming back. I sighed inwardly, reeling back my power and nodding to my brothers. They slunk back to our table, steps soundless in the now silent room. Mor followed, her heels clacking on the wood floor.

Feyre glanced up at me, obviously terrified. “Thank you,” she squeaked, taking a miniscule step backwards. “I should really get going…”

“Where, back to his manor?” I jerked my chin toward the door the Lord had exited. She nodded, staring at her feet and tugging at the hem of her dress. Skin-tight and sweaty, it stuck to her skin and left nothing to the imagination.

“Come with me,” I said, softening my voice and holding out a hand. She bit her lip, shaking her head. It broke my heart to see how scared she was of me. “I only want to give you my coat. It’s cold out there, and I’m assuming you can’t winnow, so it might be a long walk.” I ducked my head to meet her eyes, giving her a small smile.

“I won’t hurt you. I promise.” That seemed to be enough for her, and she cautiously placed her hand in mine. The touch sent electricity sparking through me, a shiver snaking down my spine. Feyre’s face became more guarded, and she kept her distance.

I led her to the table, taking my suit coat from the back of my chair and placing it over her slim shoulders. The bones stood out sharply; I winced inwardly at the sight.

The High Lord of Spring was sapping the life from her. My fingers grazed the skin of her collarbone and she shivered.

I voiced my thoughts without realizing. “What did he do to you?”

Feyre cleared her throat, backing away and tugging the jacket tighter around her. “Thank you, um, Rhysand, but I have to be going.” With a slight shake of her head, she turned on her heel and hurried towards the door.

“Wait!” I called, taking a step towards her retreating figure. It only served to quicken her pace, and I felt my face crumple.

Mor’s heels clacked behind me, and she reached out to comfort me. “Rhys…”

“Not now.” The world turned as black as the hole in my soul as I winnowed away.


	2. The Dance: Chapter 2

Gasping, I landed at the foothills of the mountains and fell to my knees. I hadn’t even known where I wanted to go, my only thought was getting away from Mor and Cassian and Azriel and their prying gazes. The club had been too small of a space, the walls closing in and Mor had wanted to comfort me, as if she’d known what happened. Had Tamlin felt it too? Oh Gods, what if he hurt her because of it?

Snapping my eyes shut, I forced myself to take a deep breath and retract the claws that had sprung out. No, I knew Tamlin- at least I had at one time. He wouldn’t hurt Feyre, she was the closest thing he had to a mate. After a few moments, I opened my eyes and took in my surroundings, a tiny portion of the tension in my shoulders eased as I recognized them.

I had winnowed to the cabin.

I walked, rather than flew, the mile from the snowy steppes to the quaint log cabin, where white smoke was already pouring from the chimney. No doubt a fire was burning in the hearth, summoned by the need to dry my cold, wet clothes. My skin prickled when I passed through the wards that guarded the area and I stumbled to the threshold.

I’d bring Feyre here, I thought, and immediately regretted it. The pang of longing for my mate hit like an arrow to the chest, causing each breath to come in a rasping pant. The physical ache of knowing I would never have her, of knowing another male warmed her bed. Falling to my knees, I tried pushing back against the rising tide inside me, fingers clawing at my chest as if to rip out my heart.

I’d never felt so lost and hurt in my entire life.

After what could have been hours, my breathing steadied to somewhat normal levels, and I leaned forward to rest my head against the cool wood floor. I couldn’t go back to Velaris, not like this. The ache in my soul would render me useless.

The cabin would be my home until I learned to live with the pain.

***************

I stared at the report in my hands, reading but not absorbing the words. The giant stack of papers had appeared this morning at the kitchen table, a note from Mor sitting atop the pile like a crown.

I’ll be visiting you in the afternoon.

Please wear pants.

Her crude attempt at humor did nothing to comfort me.

I threw the pages down and sighed, leaning back and pinching the bridge of my nose. I couldn’t get anything done. All I could think about was Feyre; she’d absorbed my mind wholly and completely.

The scene kept replaying over and over in my head: Tamlin’s hands on her body, the look of disgust on her face when Mor told her what he’d done, the warmth of her hand in mine, and finally the terror she unknowingly blasted down that bond when she ran from me.

Her terror was justified, I suppose. Certainly, Tamlin had nothing nice to say about me and the ruthlessness of the Court of Nightmares was common knowledge. Few knew the truth behind that façade: the Court of Dreams. The one thing that I managed to do right in this life was keep Velaris alive and thriving, hidden from the rest of the world.

But of course, Feyre didn’t know that side of me. Hell, she barely knew me at all, besides what Tamlin might have told her. I didn’t know anything about her either, not her last name or even what she enjoyed doing.

The only thing I knew for certain was that she was my mate, and I had blown my only chance to woo her.

A tentative knock broke my self-loathing. “Come in,” I croaked, voice hoarse from weeks of disuse. A head of blonde hair poked around the door, and I sighed again. This wouldn’t be a fun conversation.

“What is it, Mor?”

She stepped into the tiny cabin, clicking the door shut behind her. “Just wanted to see how you were doing.” Tucking her hair back, she sank into the chair opposite me. “Cass and Az are concerned. Amren is too, though she won’t admit it.”

“I’m fine,” I said, forcing a smile to my face. “Why wouldn’t I be?” Mor’s brow furrowed and she worried her bottom lip with her teeth. I braced myself for what she would undoubtedly say, averting my eyes to the ground.

“You’ve been gone for weeks, Rhys. You’ve never been away from Velaris nor neglected your duties for so long.” She toyed with the hem of her dress, reminding me of the way Feyre had nervously tugged at her dress when we met. I went rigid at the memory, looking away to pin my gaze over Mor’s shoulder.

“We all felt it snap into place,” she said, speaking softly as if not to further upset me. “Rhys, we’re here for you-“

“I don’t know what you’re talking about.” I picked up a random stack of papers, studying them intently. “I have a lot of work to do.”

“Rhysand.” I ignored the command that laced the word, frowning as if the report concerned me. Mor growled, the sound bubbling out of her chest as she slammed a hand on the table.

“Damn it, Rhys! You aren’t okay.” Her eyes were wild, searching my face when I finally looked up. “Feyre is your mate, and she’s with someone else. Don’t you care at all?”

“Of course I fucking care!” I spat, rising from my chair. “She’s malnourished. She’s with Tamlin- living with him. Even after you showed her how much of a fucking prick he is, she still ran back to him, even though she’s terrified of him. And she’s scared of me too.” Hot tears built behind my eyes, and I clenched my hands into fists.

For two weeks I had shoved that interaction down, determined to forget about it. Feyre didn’t know we were mated by the Cauldron, and she never needed to. I had given her a chance to come with me, but she had chosen the High Lord of Spring. And why shouldn’t she? I’d done so many horrible things in my life, maybe meeting her only to lose her minutes after was punishment for those things. I scrubbed a hand over my face as those pent-up emotions threatened to spill over.

“Rhys,” Mor whispered, moving around the desk and placing her hands on my arms. “She doesn’t know the real you. She only knows the mask. You just have to find a way to show her who you truly are.”

I laughed harshly and stepped back. “And how the hell do you suppose I do that?”

Morrigan squared her shoulders and lifted her chin, staring me down. “You go back to that club and you prove to her that you aren’t the High Lord of Nightmares, but of Dreams.”

“She won’t trust me.” My voice was barely more than a whisper. “She’s terrified of me.”

“Show her Velaris.” Mor said unflinchingly, and I looked at her, utterly shocked.

“I can’t! What if she runs back to Tamlin and tells him? Then everything I have worked so hard to protect would be in danger.”

Mor shrugged. “I guess you’ll just have to trust her.”

***************

The nightclub was just as I had remembered, with the hot press of slick bodies on all sides and the salty scent of sweat coating the air. I clung to the shadows to the side of the dancefloor, blending in well enough in a black button-down shirt, sleeves rolled to the elbows. I stuck out like a sore thumb being here by myself and wearing so much clothing. Observing the other Fae on the dancefloor had me undoing the first few buttons of my shirt, revealing the tattooed chest that sent males and females alike swooning at the sight.

It had been two hours since I arrived, and I had accomplished nothing. I waved off the few stray admirers that had dared approach me, and was damn near ready to give up when she walked in.

I waited for Tamlin to show his ugly mug, but it seemed she was instead escorted by the russet haired Fae with the golden eye- Lucien, if memory served. Not a very effective body guard either- his attention was immediately locked on the first female he saw, leaving Feyre to wander to the bar on her own.

“Just one tonight, sweetheart?” The barkeep drawled, eyes sweeping over her body. I couldn’t blame him, the form-fitting black dress she wore worked wonders for what little curves she did have. She smiled meekly at the grubby male and nodded, and I pushed off the wall and slid onto the stool next to her.

He returned with the drink, and I passed him two silver coins. “I’ve got this one,” I drawled, sensing Feyre’s curious stare. To her credit, it only took her a few moments to discern who I was.

“Rhysand?”

The corner of my mouth twitched upward and I ran a hand through my hair as I turned to face her fully.

“In the flesh and blood,” I purred, meeting her eyes of dull blue-grey. There was no spark in them, although I somehow knew that they once had been filled with passion and fight.

“What are you doing here?” Her gaze flitted around the bar, scanning for any of Tamlin’s minions. It snagged on Lucien, who was completely unaware of my presence, too wrapped up in some pretty female. Feyre curled her shoulders inward, whispering angrily, “I know who you are, and if Lucien sees you-“

“I know,” I said, instinctively dropping my voice to match hers. “But I had to see you again- to know you were okay.” Her brow furrowed and she studied me with a calculating gaze. There- that was a remnant of the spark I knew resided within her, her assessing gaze raking against my defenses.

“Why does it matter to you?”

I didn’t want to lie, not to her. I settled for the vague truth. “Because I care about you.”

“But you’re the High Lord of the Night Court,” she blurted, then clapped her hand to her mouth. “I’m sorry I didn’t mean to call you out!”

Shaking my head, I said, “No one else can hear us. I’ve put up a wall between them and us, precisely for that reason.” My eyes were drawn to her lip, which she had bitten nervously. Gods, such full, pink lips. What I wouldn’t give to kiss them all night long, to feel them on my neck, chest, and-

“Rhysand?” My gaze flicked back up to her eyes, noting the slight rose tint of the blush on her cheeks. I quirked a brow in silent question.

“Why do you care about me? I’m only another Spring Court Fae, and Tamlin’s betrothed to boot.” She said it with such malice that I knew she wasn’t with him for love, but for some other deeper, hidden reason.

I swirled the amber liquid in my glass, contemplating how to respond. I didn’t want to endanger her by telling her we were mates. Tamlin’s temper was a thing of legend, and I had seen him pissed off enough that I knew I didn’t want Feyre to endure that kind of rage.

Mor’s words echoed in my mind. Prove to her you aren’t the High Lord of Nightmares, but of Dreams.

“I’m not as horrible of a person as everyone leads you to believe,” I murmured, swiveling to face her. “My Court of Nightmares? It’s only a front. A mask to hide the true gems of my Court, one city in particular.” I reached for her hand, and to my delight she didn’t pull away. Her skin was cool and rough, possessing none of the warmth I had been expecting to find.

“I’d like to show you, if you would allow it.” I could see the wheels turning in her head as she weighed her options. My heart pounded in my chest, and although I desperately wanted her to say yes, I also knew that by showing Feyre my secret, I would be betraying my city.

The hair on the back of my neck stood up as the atmosphere in the room shifted in the space of a blink. The gathered Fae murmured anxiously as someone cut a path through the center of the dance floor. Something was wrong- whoever it was wasn’t well liked by the crowd.

A single name surfaced in my mind as I caught a glimpse of blond hair: Tamlin. Urgency flooded my system, causing me to squeeze Feyre’s hand in hopes of speeding her decision.

“There’s not much time,” I said, double checking my glamor and the shield of air surrounding us. High Lords could recognize glamors, however, and Tamlin was nearing the bar where we sat. My violet eyes beseeched her as I studied her face.

“I promise you, Feyre, that I am not a monster. I want nothing more than to prove that to you. Please let me show you Velaris.”

She fidgeted in her seat, frowning at our clasped hands. It seemed like an eternity before she nodded slowly. “I think I would like that.”

“Great, we can go now!” I squeezed her hand, the glare of the lights on Tamlin’s mask near blinding as he drew nearer. I prepared to winnow us, the edges of my vision turning black when an arm latched around my neck. The tip of a dagger dug into my side, effectively pinning me in place. Feyre’s hand slipping from my grasp as Tamlin stauntered up.

“Well well, what have we here?” He cocked his head to the side, a predatory grin on his face as he circled me. “High Lord of Night’s come to play, eh?”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Let me know if I should continue.. I don't want to write if no one will read it!


	3. The Dance: Chapter 3

“Well well, what have we here?” Tamlin cocked his head to the side, a predatory grin on his face as he circled me. “High Lord of Night’s come to play, eh?” He threw his head back and laughed, the sound sharp enough to set my ears ringing.

“Let him go!” Feyre shouted, shoving against his chest. Tamlin was taken aback, seemingly noticing her for the first time. He blinked once before his lips curled back from his teeth.

“I told you to stay with Lucien. I finally let you out on your own and  _this-“_ he pointed to me, the tip of Lucien’s dagger piercing my skin- “Is how you repay me?”

“We were only talking, Tamlin!” Her hands balled into fists at her sides. I actually thought she might take a swing at him, judging by the rage that coated her features.

“I don’t give a shit if you were just talking,” he snarled, claws ripping from his fingertips. “I gave you one rule.  _Stay with Lucien.”_ Feyre was physically trembling as he towered over her. “But you couldn’t even listen to that!”

A tiny whimper passed Feyre’s lips and she instinctively braced herself for more verbal blows. Tamlin’s face softened, realizing what he said was scaring her. He rubbed at his temples, as if he was dealing with an unruly child.

“I’m sorry, Feyre.” He laid a hand on her shoulder, and she  _flinched._ Flinching meant that she had anticipated a blow. Anticipating a blow meant that he’d laid hands on her before.

That realization snapped the last of the fragile control I held over my power. Lucien yelped, leaping back as the dark tendrils of shadowy night snaked from my fingers and pooling around Tamlin’s feet.

“Get away from her,” I growled, slamming Lucien against the wall with a flick of my wrist. Wisely, he stayed there without complaint. Stalking towards Tamlin, I saw the flash of fear in his eyes that he tried so hard to hide.

“She’s  _mine,_ ” He growled back, wrapping his hand around her arm. Again, Feyre looked at me with pleading eyes and white-hot rage pulsed through my veins.

“You don’t  _own_ her,” I countered, stopping within inches of his face. My tall stature allowed me to tower over him, turning the tables and unsteadying him.

Good.

“She isn’t some possession that you get to squabble over,” I continued, letting those inky ropes flow of their own accord. One glance at Feyre told me that she was enraptured by the magic rather than terrified. Her blue eyes were fixed on the pool flowing at Tamlin’s feet, deep purple and blue specked with sparkling light- just like the sky.

“You don’t know, do you?” Tamlin sneered at me, possessing the audacity to laugh.

I drug my attention back to the manipulative male. “Know what?”

“That Feyre here-“ He clasped his hands behind his back and took a step to the side, the shadows parting to allow him past- “Is my betrothed.”

The world tipped from under me. I was vaguely aware of Feyre shouting something, either at me or at her lover, but all I could hear was the blood pounding in my ears. That’s why he was being so possessive over her. Because he  _could._

The laws governing the Spring Court were vastly different from those of my court. Here, when two Fae were engaged to be wed, whomever held the higher social standing could force the other into submission. ‘Within reason,’ the law stated. But who would ever dare challenge the High Lord?

A grin broke across Tamlin’s face as I put the pieces together.

“That’s right, Rhysand. She’s all mine, and there’s nothing you can do about it.” He laughed again, and there was nothing sane or stable about the sound. Something had been broken within him many years ago. This was not the male that I had once befriended.

He was a monster.

“But there is,” I murmured, snapping out of my daze to meet Feyre’s eyes. “The laws of Prythian allow a mate to object to a marriage between their mate and another.”

There it was, laid out on the table. The big secret that I’d tried to protect in order to keep her from harm.

Tamlin’s head whipped back to Feyre, who was staring at me wide eyed and shocked. “Did you know?” He demanded of her, reaching as if to seize her arm once more. All it took was a snap of my fingers to freeze the limb midair.

“You don’t touch her.”

“This is an act of war-“

“It is no such thing. I haven’t harmed you.”

Tamlin growled, the sound ripping from his throat. I had him cornered, and he damn well knew it. Lucien sniffed the air, scenting for the mating bond.

“They haven’t accepted the bond, my lord.”

“I know,” he snapped, shooting daggers at the flame haired male. “I’d have scented it when we fucked last night.” Another pointed jab, but it didn’t hit home. I let it roll right off me, much to his dismay. Tamlin’s face contorted into further rage as he grew more desperate.

“And they never will accept it. She is  _my_ fiancé.  _You can’t have her!”_

I tuned out his words, my attention fixed wholly on Feyre. Her breathing was heavy as she shook her head in disbelief. I felt a second, duller snap in my chest, and I knew instantly that the bond had finally locked into place for her, too.

“Feyre,” I breathed, daring a step forward and holding out my hand towards her. “My offer still stands-“

“Don’t fucking touch her!”

She shook her head, caught between the monster that was her betrothed and whatever unknown threat I might pose.

“Feyre  _please,_ I won’t hurt you, I won’t cage you, I swear!” I’d reached the point of begging. I didn’t care. Tamlin snarled and gnashed his beastly teeth at me from a few paces away, where my magic kept his feet pinned to the floor.

“I can trust you, right?” She breathed, blue eyes searching my violet. There was a vulnerable look in them, raw and unsure. Gods, so much hurt was held in such a tiny frame, broken and battered and bruised.

“You can trust me.”

Tentatively her hand found mine. I released Tamlin as I winnowed, his deafening roar of rage following us through the endless black.

***************

Feyre sputtered and fell to her knees when we landed at the House of Wind. I knelt beside her, offering her my jacket once more. She accepted it gratefully, leaning her head back against the stone wall of the balcony.

“Are you alright?” I asked cautiously, scanning her for any sign of injury.

“I think,” she whispered, squeezing her eyes shut. “I can’t wrap my head around what happened. Tamlin’s never done that before.”

Her voice was small and laced with the pain of betrayal. Pain was something I had become very intimate with over my lifetime, and I could recognize when it held someone in it’s sharp claws. Feyre curled in on herself, wrapping her arms around her knees and effectively shutting out the night’s events.

“It’s a lot to take in.” She pulled the lapels of my jacket tighter around her to ward out the chill.

“I’m sorry,” I whispered, rocking back on my heels. “That’s not how I wanted you to find out, but I didn’t see any other way-“

“I know.”

A cold wind whipped in from the steppes, and I shivered. Feyre did too, though I could tell she had no intention of moving anytime soon. Her face was blank but tears rolled liberally down her hollow cheeks.

Her eyes held no fire.

“Thank you for saving me,” she rasped, finally looking up to me.

As carefully as I could manage, I slipped my arm under her shaking knees. Wrapping the other around her torso, I murmured, “It’s alright, Feyre. I won’t let him hurt you.” That broke whatever dam she had carefully constructed within her heart, and her emotions poured out of her in waves.

Her fingers clung to my shirt as she sobbed, and I carried her through the House of Wind to one of the many chambers within. I chose the one with the most windows and the most exists, lest she feel like a caged bird and need to fly away.

Another feeling I knew well.

Setting her gently on the bed, I made to take my leave. It had been a long day, and I figured she would want some time to sort out everything that had happened.

“Stay,” she whispered, catching my wrist as I turned away. “Please.”

I nodded, her grip remaining firm as I summoned a chair. “I’ll watch over you,” I promised, her hold relaxing enough for me to take her hand.

“Thank you,” she murmured, her eyes already sliding shut as sleep claimed her. She was out within moments, but I remained by her side.

“Anything for you, Feyre darling.”


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Not sure when I'll be continuing with the next chapter. If you'd like to see more, let me know in the comments!

Branches whipped at my face as I raced through a moonlit wood. My chest heaved as I sprinted, the terror pumping through my veins pushing me on. I splashed through a shallow stream, the icy water splashing around my calves. It weighed down my jacket, plastering it to my scratched, bleeding thighs.

“FEYRE!” The cry split the silent night, piercing the thick veil of silence. It was Lucien’s voice; the Heir of Autumn. The cry sent a bolt of raw, frozen fear through me. Why? What did I have to be afraid of him for-

I caught a flash of caramel hair as I threw a glance over my shoulder.

This wasn’t my dream.

I’d slipped into Feyre’s. She must have projected it through our bond.

Stones tore at her bare feet and she stumbled, crying out in pain. Seconds later she was back up, the sound of her pursuer forcing her to run on her twisted ankle. It barked in pain with each step, her limping gait slowing her down.

Whatever was chasing her was closing in fast, and she knew it. Tears streaked down her face as she stumbled again, this time unable to get up. She scrambled back against a tree, sobbing as a creature skidded to a halt before her. It’s lips curled back in a snarl to reveal a set of sinister canines, snapping in discontent.

I realized what it was the moment it moved into a swath of moonlight. The beast was the size of a horse with a bear-like body and a lupine face. That wasn’t the strikingly recognizable feature though; it was the massive antlers that gave him away. I’d seen this beast before, fought by it’s side many decades ago.

Tamlin.

“Please,” she gasped, cowering at the base of the tree as he advanced on her like she was his prey. “Please, I’ll come home, I was just scared-“ The beast growled and Lucien stepped into the clearing, his russet eye whirring. Her eyes immediately found his, begging for his mercy. Begging him to talk to his High Lord.

“Tell him, Lucien, tell him I’ll come home.” He turned away, unable to look at her. “Tell him I made a mistake,  _please!”_ Fresh tears poured down her cheeks, and my heart  _ached_ to comfort her.

A scream born of pure terror ripped from her throat as he lunged for her, sharpened claws glinting in the white light of the moon-

Feyre jolted awake, her sweaty palm still in mine. Her heart thudded in her chest and her brow was coated in sweat. Her blue eyes darted frantically around the room. The chair groaned beneath me as I leaned forward.

“It was only a dream,” I murmured, cupping her cheek. She flinched, but didn’t try to shake off the touch. “He can’t get to you here. You’re safe, you’re free.”

Pools of blue beseeched my starry violet. Panic continued to pulse off her in waves, and I murmured reassurances as she trembled. I knew what it was like to be trapped, to have every decision stripped away from you.

I knew how it felt to be a prisoner in your own home.

I’d been trapped here by my father years ago under the pretense of protecting me. ‘You’re the heir,’ he’d tell me as he sealed the exits of my chambers. My mother begged him to let me out; she wanted me to experience everything the world had to offer. I gulped, locking the memory away and lowering my voice to repeat the words I knew she so desperately needed to hear.

“You’re free.”

“I’m free.” Her head fell back against the down pillows. She breathed deeply through her nose, exhaling through her mouth in a technique that seemed to have a soothing effect for her. I stayed with her, my thumb rubbing soft circles on the back of her hand.

“You’ve seen his beast form?” I spoke quietly, afraid to spook her. She went stiff, features contorting first in pain, then confusion.

“How do you know what I dreamed about?”

“Ah, well…” I scrubbed a hand over my face. “I’m sure you’ve heard that I possess  _Daemati_ powers.” My eyes flicked up and she nodded.

“You can read minds.” I held her gaze, and when I didn’t respond, she snarled, “Are you telling me that you barged in and rifled around my head while I was asleep?” She yanked her hand free from mine.

“Cauldron, no Feyre. I’d never do such a thing.” Just the thought made my stomach flip.

“Then how?”

“It’s a combination of my powers and our bond.”

You could hear a pin drop on the plush carpet as the silence stretched between us. She picked at the bedspread, deep in thought.

“So you knew that Tamlin chased after me in my dream because of this… mating bond.” She looked to me for confirmation. Gently, with as much care as I could, I brushed a talon of inky night against her mind. She gasped, hands flying to her head in attempt to push me out.

Too far.

I withdrew my mental claws as she gaped at me, fear and intrigue warring in her expression.

“Yes. But I want you to know that it wasn’t intentional on my part. I’m going to guess that  _he-“_ the word dripped like venom from my tongue- “didn’t teach you the importance of mental shields?”

Feyre scoffed, pulling her knees to her chest and resting her chin on them. “Hell no. All I am to him is a doll for him to pose as he pleases.” She twisted the diamond-encrusted band that labelled her as his betrothed. “But… I was terrified to leave. And I guess now you know why.” She shrugged as if she hadn’t just admitted that she was willing to marry the male that she feared. Like that were some small detail that could easily be overlooked.

“I’m sorry for what you’ve been through.” I laid my hand on hers once more, the small touch sending sparks through my veins.

“Thank you for understanding. And for saving me when no one else would.”

“You’re welcome, Feyre. Can I get you anything?” She shook her head, and I instinctively reached up to brush back the hair that fell in her face. She stiffened under the touch, and I quickly withdrew my hand. She took another deep breath, her freckled nose scrunching up as she thought.

Gods, what a perfectly wonderful face.

“Actually…” She began, looking out through the French doors leading to the balcony, “I think I would rather like to clean up. I’m still sweaty from the club…” I nodded, releasing her hand to smooth the lapels of my jacket as I stood.

“I’ll ask Nuala and Cerridwen to draw you a bath, if that sounds acceptable?”

“That sounds lovely-“

“Rhys? Rhysaaaand!” Heels clacked on the marble in the hallway outside, the sound immediately erasing any doubt as to who was calling for me. I glanced at Feyre’s confused expression just as the chamber door swung wide to reveal my cousin.

She certainly knew how to make a grand first impression. Clad in a wine-red dress that perfectly matched her lipstick, it hugged her curves in a way that I knew meant she must have just returned from her lover’s embrace. Her rich brown eyes snagged on Feyre before flicking to me, brows rising suggestively.

“Mor,” I said cheerily, plastering a smile on my face and sweeping an arm to indicate Feyre. “This is Feyre. Feyre, this is my cousin, Mor.”

 _Don’t screw this up,_ I told her, mind to mind.

 _Please,_ she scoffed, sashaying over to us,  _when have I ever let you down?_

I shot her a look that suggested she better not start now.

“Hello,” Feyre murmured weakly, hastily trying to pat down her bed head.

“It’s nice to properly meet you. As Rhys said, I’m Morrigan, his third in command.” She inclined her head in a slight bow, a gesture normally reserved for High Lords and their counterparts.

Feyre sucked in a breath before asking, “If you’re third in command, then who’s second?” Mor’s answering smile was sharp enough to cut steel.

“That would be Amren. Don’t know if you want to meet her quite yet though, she can be a bit cranky before her morning cup of blood.” Her grey blue eyes went wide as saucers as she turned to me, and I rolled my eyes at Morrigan.

_What did I fucking say?_

_What? I’m only telling her the truth._

“If I could speak to you in the hall, please?” I asked her, and summoned Nuala and Cerridwen with a wave of my tattooed hand.

The twins appeared instantly, stepping through the impenetrable shadow of night in which they dwelled. A tiny gasp escaped Feyre’s lips, and she scrambled back. Her pupils dilated and her chest heaved as they twins awaited stoically for my orders.

“Feyre, it’s alright.” I took her hand once more, hoping to draw her attention. It was locked on the sisters, however, and her gaze didn’t budge. Placing my knuckle beneath her chin, I forced her to look at me. “You’re safe. They mean you no harm, I promise. No one would dare harm you while you are in my court, lest they have to deal with me.”

Feyre gulped and inclined her head slightly towards me. “Thank you.” Her voice dropped to whisper, unaware that everyone would still be able to hear. ”They must be the two you were telling me about?”

“Yes. This is Nuala and Cerridwen. They are twin sisters, and they will be here to assist you in any way you may need. You only need to call either of their names, and they will attend to you.” Her previously hollowed eyes turned fiery, a bit of the spark I had seen at the club returning to them.

“That’s all very kind, but I’m not willing to endorse slavery.”

Ah, yes. We were back to me being a monster. Morrigan stepped forward, laying a manicured hand near Feyre’s blanketed feet.

“They are not slaves.” Her eyes were pools of liquid chocolate, warmer than I had seen them in a long while. “Nuala and Cerridwen are paid handsomely and are free to leave whenever they please. They  _choose_ to stay. They’re free, just like you.”

She relaxed slightly. “Well, good.” Feyre nodded to herself, her brows knitting together. “I had my freedom to choose stolen from me in the past- I don’t want anyone else’s taken on my behalf.”

“I understand.” I squeezed her hand lightly, a faint smile playing on my lips. “Will you be alright here?”

“I think so.”

That smile grew to a grin as I followed Mor into the hall, the sound of running water filling my ears. She pounced the moment the door clicked shut behind us.

“Well, what happened?” She grabbed my face in her hand, tilting my chin upward to check for injuries. Eyes of piercing auburn snagged on my side, where my shirt was stained with blood. “And who the hell did  _that?”_

“Who do you think?” I jerked free of her grasp, rubbing at my cheek and vanishing the scarlet stain. “Tamlin and Lucien got the best of me at the bar. I let myself be distracted.”

“I should have been there.” Mor’s eyes scanned the rest of me for further injury. Finding none, she ran a hand through her flowing golden locks. “I should’ve been there to back you up.”

“It doesn’t matter. What’s important is that Feyre is safe.”

“About that…” Mor shifted her weight, crossing her arms over her chest. “How exactly did you manage to get Tamlin to back off?”

“She’s my mate.” I leaned back against the wall, recounting the confrontation at the bar, from finding Feyre to Lucien cornering me to Feyre’s rage and terror. When I was finished, I picked at my nails and frowned.

“He won’t let her go that easily,” she remarked, mimicking my stance.

“I know. I’m worried about her. Tamlin didn’t even let her learn how to shield her mind. Do you know how easy it would be for someone to shatter it?” Someone like me. The words hung unspoken in the air between us.

“You should train her. She seems to trust you.”

I shook my head and ran a hand through my ragged hair. “No. I don’t want to push anything on her-“

The bedroom door flung open, startling us both. Feyre’s still wet hair dripped onto her violet-the same shade as my eyes-blouse. Her eyes were set and stony, flicking between my cousin and I.

“I want to train.” My brow furrowed and I stepped towards her, arms outstretched.

“Feyre, you don’t have to-“

“Don’t tell me what I can and can’t do!” She cried, hands clenching into fists at her sides. She squeezed her eyes shut, obviously fighting back tears and numerous memories of her betrothed. At least she wasn’t too afraid to stand up to me. I had that advantage over Tamlin, I supposed.

“Let me finish,” I requested, and she straightened before curtly nodding. “You don’t have to train; my court and I can keep you safe well enough.” She opened her mouth to protest, but I cut her off. “ _But_ I won’t stop you. I can introduce you to Cassian, he’s the Commander of my armies. He’s a bit much to take in, but he’s excellent at hand to hand combat.”

She bit the inside of her cheek, considering her options. Without meaning to, she projected her thoughts down our bond- her disgust with Tamlin for ripping away her choices and keeping her locked in a cage and how overwhelmed she felt with the ability to choose now.

“You don’t have to decide right away.” I was vaguely aware of Mor striding away as I approached her, reaching my hand to take hers, but letting it drop between us. “You can take a few days to think about it, if you wish to.”

“I don’t need to think about it,” she said, slipping the diamond ring off her finger and holding it to the light. It sparkled like the midday sun on the Sidra as she inspected it with pursed lips.

“It’s my choice.” Her eyes met mine, swirling with a mixture of nervous excitement as she pocketed the ring. I had an inkling that the gesture symbolized the end of that life for her; the end of her betrothal.

“And I choose to train.” She shot me a toothy grin, one that I couldn’t help but mirror with my own.

She was adjusting as well as I could expect, and it sent hope sparking through my veins. Perhaps Mor was right; maybe Feyre did trust me. She had trusted me enough to come with me last night, even when everything she had been taught suggested she shouldn’t.

“Then you’ll train. Cassian and Azriel will oversee it.”

Feyre tucked her chestnut hair behind her delicately pointed ear and cleared her throat.

“Let’s go meet them, then.”


End file.
